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Saturday, March 31, 2012

I like food.

I bet you do, too. Maybe not as much as I do, but that's a discussion for another day. Today, I want to tell you about how much I also like writing reviews of my food experience. (I almost wrote "my food-eating experiences," but that seemed too strange, even for me, which is rare.)

In January, I decided to check out The Kitchen, a new-ish cafe down the road from my apartment. After much vacillating about what to order, I went with one of the pasta dishes: spiral pasta with roasted tomatoes, melted cheese, spinach, & prosciutto. I paid my $9 & got it to go... & it was, hands down, one of the worst dishes I've ever had in my life. Sour, vinegar-y, such that it almost tasted rancid. I ate three bites & threw all $9 of it away & went for a Lean Cuisine instead. I proceeded to write a two-star Yelp review about my experience, & that was that. I vowed, of course, never to eat that dish again.

Until...

While I was in Israel, I received an email from one of the restaurant's two chefs, who implored me to give The Kitchen another shot. Upset by my bad experience, he explained that the dish I ordered is one of their most popular, & that it's always been successful at events. "We did you wrong and we need you to have a better taste in your mouth about us," he wrote. "Excuse the pun!" He'd already almost convinced me, & that line sealed the deal. I will not excuse the pun because I really like puns. Plus, it's a rarity for a business to reach out to social media folk in such a polite, friendly manner following negative press, so despite my not-so-tasty first try at The Kitchen, I decided to give it another go. The chef kindly offered to comp me my meal whenever I made it back in, but because a paid meal makes for the most honest review, I didn't tell him I was coming.

I ordered the same thing, but this time, I got it to stay - & it was really good. Everything was fresh, the portion was huge, & the flavors went together well. This is, of course, not to discount my initial experience, because everything I said stood true at the time, but I'm pleased that I gave the dish - and the restaurant - another try. Everyone has bad days, & maybe some dishes don't translate as well into to-go containers! I even approached Mike & staff after my meal, & they were super-nice; I promptly returned home to write a second-chance review.

Food aside, it says something about a restaurant's integrity when they reach out to a lowly blogger after a less-than-perfect experience. While the end goal may simply be better reviews, the friendliness & depth of Mike's email convinced me that The Kitchen deserved one more shot, & my meal today convinced me that it deserves more shots beyond that. I'll definitely be back, & I look forward to checking out the rest of their menu.

Friday, March 30, 2012

Remember the song from the '90s that I got this post title from? It's been stuck in my head for a few days now, & because I haven't actually heard it in ages, I thought perhaps it was on mental repeat for some reason, a sign that I was supposed to start writing about why. Unfortunately, the words aren't coming easily because, in a rare moment of writer's block, I can't even figure out what I want or need to say.

I want to have something beautiful to say, something funny to say, something worthwhile or optimistic or even just entertaining. But to be honest, I don't know what to say. None of my words are cohesive or related - just a lot of feelings that aren't translating right onto paper, which is an unnerving experience for me. I always have something to say.

Look, it comes down to this: Every day, I take a look at my life & recognize how lucky I am - and how awful I still feel. The last couple of months, I've just been spiraling into this scary bottomless pit of sadness. There's too much going on, so much that I don't know how to absorb it all or manage it correctly, & when I don't know how to handle things, I turn inward & panic a lot.

Panic. That word sums it up, I think: I'm just so scared.

I'm scared of my new job because it means I might fail. It means I have to step out of my newly identified comfort zone, out of the safety of the position I held for just over a year & instead into a role that was created with me in mind. It means I have a lot to prove, a lot to live up to, a lot to do, & even though I'm also crazy excited about it, holy crap, that's so scary.

I'm scared of Nathan's new orders because they mean he won't leave every two months anymore, that he'll be home with me instead - all the time, like normal couples. It means we'll be entering into the "real" phase of our relationship, the one where we have to evaluate whether this is something we can & want to do for the rest of our lives, & thinking in such definite terms terrifies me because holy crap, that's so scary.

I'm scared of moving to Red Bank because it means starting over, doing everything I've been doing for a year now but have to do it better this time, actually making an effort to meet new friends & have a viable social life instead of curling up on the couch with my cat & falling asleep early on Friday nights. It means learning the ropes of a new place, figuring out how to be comfortable again, & being uncomfortable in the meantime while I assemble all the pieces of my new life - & holy crap, that's so scary.

I'm scared of less identifiable things, too, things like getting old, going broke, being unhealthy; nebulous ideas that haunt me & creep into my thoughts throughout any given day. I'm scared of never settling down, of never feeling fulfilled, of always hitting this same bump in the road whenever I'm faced with the necessary prospect of change. I'm scared of yet another transition into the unknown, just when I'd finally recovered from the last transition into the unknown.

To sum it all up: I'm scared, I'm scared, I'm scared. It's just that everything seems big & scary, & I'm not particularly adept at dealing with big, scary things. I keep looking around at my life, & I can see that it's great, but what if I mess it up? What if it stops being great? What if I can't figure out how to hold onto everything? What if I can't transition properly? What if everything is falling apart & I can't put it back together?

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Sometimes I have crushes on women.

I am in a happy, loving relationship with a wonderful, handsome man, & for all intents & purposes, I identify as a straight woman - but I'd be lying if I told you I didn't have a soft spot for "masculine" lesbians who don't conform to gender stereotypes. Incidentally, these women are typically reality TV stars.

Ashley Merriman, my original (& biggest) reality TV crush,was a "cheftestant" (that faux word makes me want to punch a puppy) on Season 6 of Top Chef. This New Hampshire native (woop woop!) looks exactly like a hipster boy, down to the mini-mullet & the plastic tortoiseshell specs, & I'm apparently not the only straight lady who found herself swooning over the culinary cutie. The former emo kid in me still wants a boyfriend just like her! I mean... wait, that doesn't even make sense. Except it does.

Sarah Golden was (spoiler alert!) recently booted from The Voice, a decision that did not sit well with me because I loved her a lot. She has a powerful folksy voice, & her acoustic rendition of Lady Gaga's "You & I" solidified her spot on this list. Sarah told NBC she'd had the opportunity to sign with record labels in the past, but both wanted her to change her look to long hair & dresses. I, for one, think Sarah is beautiful as she is - & her look doesn't have a damn thing to do with her sound.

Azmarie Livingston is a current contestant on this season's America's Next Top Model, and yesIstillwatchitshutup. Androgyny is her "thing," & she does it damn well; she's been ranked number one in the last two weeks of the competition. I don't know what else to say about her, so I'm gonna move right along to the photo & let you crush for yourself.

I know straight dudes are a fan of saying "No homo!" before admitting to their dude crushes, but forget that. Nothing wrong with identifying as a solid 2 on the Kinsey Scale.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Life dream: ACCOMPLISHED. Last night, my childhood best friend & I saw our favorite movie of all time come to life on stage. We paid an arm & a leg for our tickets, our transportation, our lodging - but when that curtain rose, there was no question that it was well worth every single penny & every bit of pre-trip planning stress. To see "NEWSIES" in lights on a Broadway marquee; to hear the first notes of "Santa Fe" played by a professional orchestra; to be two smiling, crying faces in a sea of hundreds of others who cheered so hard that the actors delayed their transitions between scenes to allow time for the whoops & hollers to die down.

The rumors you may have heard are true: The stage version is not the movie version. The beloved character of Denton, originally played by Bill Pullman, has been replaced by a strong fermale lead named Katharine, a reporter who also becomes the object of Jack's affections. Jack himself is no longer a cowboy but instead an artist, one who paints his Santa Fe dreams on canvas rather than stealing horses to act them out. David is bumbling & nerdy, a mere shadow of the smart, feisty movie character who stands up to Jack when he dares to cross the picket line for pay. A number of my favorite lines were cut, lines like, "For a dream night's the only time of day," and "I say that what you say is what I say." The grit is largely gone, Brooklyn reduced to a gimmicky musical number instead of slingshots & sass & Spot Conlon.

Still, I understand why they made most of the changes they did. I understand that the stage is not the screen, & certain accomodations need to be made in order to smoothly transition from one medium to another. Did it break my heart to hear new lyrics to "King of New York"? Of course. But does a modified stage adaptation at all dimish the magic of the movie I grew up on? Not at all. Seeing "Newsies" on a live stage, performed by real actors with voices bigger than Christian Bale could ever dream of, was magical in its own right - & seeing it with my best friend of nearly 20 years made it all the more special.

What's that you say? Oh, you want some pictures? Well, OK. If you insist.

Here were are as we left our hotel, all accidentally matching & me without a jacket despite the fact that the temperature quickly dropped to below 30.

Here we are the moment we spotted the "Newsies" marquee, tickets in hand as we waited to cross the threshhold into the Nederlander Theater, formerly home to "RENT."

Here we are sneaking a prohibited in-theater photo with our Playbills just before the lights went down & the curtain went up & we both burst into happy tears.

Here we are after the show, taking a myriad cheesy photos with the signs that plastered the show locale:

Here we are with Kara Lindsay, the young starlet who made her Broadway debut playing new character Katharine Plumber:

Here we are with Andrew Keenan-Bolger, who plays affable gimp Crutchy (and arguably the best of the cast), outside the theater after the show:

And here we are just a few hours ago, sporting the "Newsies" shirts that were among the many (absurdly expensive) souvenirs we bought at the show:

You get your picture in the papes, you're famous. You're famous, you get anything you want. That's what's so great about New York.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Remember when I told you about Blog Better Boston & the fact that I was invited to be a panelist at a session for beginning bloggers? That just happened. A few hours ago. (I'm still at the event, actually.) And though I am prone to extreme bouts of anxiety prior to public speaking (confession: I vomited before the session), I think it went really well. I'm pretty proud, if you want the truth. Which you probably do.

I served on the Blogging Basics panel with Charlene of Charlene Chronicles & Lynzy of Sparkling Footsteps, moderated by Kate of Domestikated Life. On the surface, the three of us seemed to have very little in common - a fashion blogger who works in a hospital, an attorney-slash-mommyblogger, and... me. But as it turns out, that's what made the panel work so well: We had a diversity of opinions & ideas, & the audience had a lot of questions for us. (I wish we'd had time to answer more of them because, you know, I really like to talk.)

Expect a bigger, better Blog Better Boston recap very soon, likely written on my four-hour train ride to Manhattan tomorrow morning. In the meantime, Imma go eat some of the mini cupcakes provided at the event. THREE CHEERS FOR FREE FOOD. And bloggers.

Friday, March 23, 2012

I like to think I'm a pretty good traveler. Someone else must believe me, too, because I've been writing travel articles for online magazine Twenties Hacker for a few months now. I took at least one flight a month in 2011, & I appear to be on track to surpass that record in 2012. Needless to say, I spend a lot of time away from home, & I've become fairly adept at doing it.

That's what made today's travel experience all the more embarrassing.

I've been away for a week now, first at a wedding at Phoenix & then working from my office in D.C. (both of which deserve individual attention by way of their own posts). I was scheduled to return home today on a 1:30pm US Airways flight back to Boston, but when I tried to check in for my flight online, I hit a snag: "You have no scheduled flights today," read the computer display. Indeed, when I pulled up my itinerary, this horror was confirmed: I'd booked a ticket for the wrong day. A day exactly two weeks into the future, at 1:30pm on Friday, April 6th.

Commence panic. But what could I do? Couch-surf until the 6th? Riiight. It would've cost me $25 more to change my existing ticket than to just purchase a new one, so... I purchased a new one, for 2:30pm today, & conceded to swallowing the cost of the April 6th ticket. $125 down the proverbial drain. Not like I needed that.

At 1:15, I hopped a cab to the airport & headed to a US Airways kiosk to check in. "You've missed your flight's check-in period," read the computer display. Indeed, when I pulled up my itinerary, this horror was confirmed: I'd booked myself for the 1:30 flight, after all, & the clock read 1:36.

In short: WHO AM I & WHAT SORT OF IDIOT DOES ALL OF THIS?

Luckily, there are flights from D.C. to Boston every hour, & the 2:30 flight had room for me - with a window seat, no less. I wrote this post from thousands of feet above ground ground, no one seated next to me, sipping a Diet Coke & vodka in blissful silence.

And yet, no airline cocktail can drown out the shame of today's travel travails & my apparent inability to make the correct plans. It appears as though I may have actually lost my mind. Flight attendant, another drink to seat 4A, please...

(Please note that upon landing, I missed my bus back to Portsmouth. Third time's not the charm.)

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Remember that time I freaked out really hard about the news that Nathan & I would be moving to New Jersey this summer? Yeah, that still happens from time to time, but for the most part, I am making peace with our upcoming relocation. Though New Jersey was by no means our first choice for a new home, the military controls us - and what the Coast Guard says, we do.

Luckily, we've found a nice town to call home, & I desperately hope really think we're gonna like it there. A particularly discerning (read: snooty) friend called it "the Austin, Texas, of New Jersey," which seemed like high enough praise for us to check it out, & now it's settled.

Being the filming location for this video set to Matisyahu's "One Day"

OK, so maybe it's not famous at all - but it still seems relatively cool. A little bit like Portsmouth, but near a different big city (that'd be THE big city, NYC) & with public transportation. It's got a great food scene, lots of snazzy boutiques, &, you know, Kevin Smith. It's a 20-minute drive from Nate's base, & and jaunty 90 minutes (sarcastic use of adjective) into NYC by train so that I can work from the office a few days a week. We'll start looking for apartments when Nate gets back in May, & we'll move just before the Fourth of July.

I confess to being a little bit disappointed that we have to move, as I'd just started to bond with Portsmouth & have begun to really like it here. Granted, I still only know two people in the area, but that's my own fault for not trying very hard. I won't make that mistake in Red Bank. Imma hit that town full force & find me some friends! I've already begun following & tweeting at locals who seem like they might have insight into how to get into the local scene.

Know anything about Red Bank? Know anyone who lives there? Have tips for making friends in a new town? I'd love to hear from you. New Jersey, here we come!*

PS: I wrote this post a few days ago & saved it as a draft. I published it today because I'm trying to channel that same positivity right now, but let's be honest: I want to cry every single time I think about moving to some town in the boonies of New Jersey. And don't tell me it's near beaches. I hate beaches.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

When I approached Starbucks at 5pm today, I was fiending for a latte so badly that I didn't even notice the terrible spelling errors present on the sign on their door; what I DID notice was that the sign told me I could not get a latte. It wasn't until I tweeted this disappointment-induced photo that I realized what I'd missed - and even then, it was only because others responded with such horror.

Caffeine is a powerful drug, it seems, because this is too egregious for me to have missed.

Thursday, March 15, 2012

It was a week ago today, & I was leaving a strip mall, Chipotle to-go bag in hand & ready to be consumed. Nathan had deployed that morning, & I was looking forward to eating my feelings my burrito bowl in his absence. In the parking lot of an Old Navy, I turned the key in the engine of my still-sorta-new-to-me 2008 Honda Civic. Grrrrrrind. Say whaaaat?

Luckily, my grandmother purchased an AAA membership for me as a Chanukah gift. (She did it last year, too, & it was my savior when my Toyota P.O.S. broke down at a toll booth a few weeks after my move to New Hampshire.) Less luckily, it was the day of that weird solar storm, which screwed with cell signals & prevented me from accessing the Internet on my iPhone. Utilizing the text-to-tweet function, I sent out a plea:

My Twitter friends responded en masse, bless their helpful hearts: Nearly 20 people sent me the number! AAA promised me someone would be out within the hour, & I settled into my car for the long haul, digging into my burrito bowl from behind the steering wheel & calling my mother to mope. Imagine my shock, then, when the tower pulled up within seven minutes. Literally, seven minutes. AAA MIRACLE. He jumped my car, told me I probably needed a new battery, & went on his merry way. (I called AAA to file a "report of happiness" about his work, a.k.a. a compliment. I forgot the word, OK?!)

The next day, AAA sent someone out to my apartment to check my battery (best service ever) with the intention of replacing it - but when he ran the diagnostics test, it showed that my battery was just fine, so he, too, went on his merry way. But you know the story doesn't end here, right? Of course not. Yesterday, this:

This time, I had another rider with me: My cat, Stringer Bell, was riding shotgun. I'd just taken him to get his annual shots, & when I tried to leave the vet's office, my car wouldn't start. Let me tell you, nothing screams CRAZY CAT LADY like waiting for a tow truck with your cat, yowling at the top of his little kitty lungs. The AAA guy who showed up to help me had a good sense of humor, but he said my situation was a first. From his spot in the passenger seat, Stringer was quite suspicious of the whole thing:

I can't speak Cat, but I suspect he's saying something like, "What in the bloody hell is going on here, Mama? I'm an indoor-only kinda dude." The kind folks at the vet's office were nice enough to take him back into their warm office while I sat, coatless, inside my cold car, waiting for the AAA tech to change my battery, which did, in fact, need replacing. Clearly.

The whole thing took just about an hour & cost me a mere $105, which isn't bad, considering the battery has a six-year warranty, but I may be the first person to call for roadside assistance three times in six days. The moral of this story is twofold: Never travel without AAA, & never underestimate the power of cats to make you look like a crazy person in an already-stressful situation.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

You guys. I'm sort of wigging. Can we talk for a minute about all the things that have been going on in my life? Where to start, where to start...

I drove to Ohio.
Upon finding out that my grandmother was in the hospital, Nathan & I decided to drive back to my home state last weekend. We spent about 36 hours in Ohio... & about 30 hours in the car. In case that wasn't difficult enough (my body still hurts & I never want to listen to a podcast again), the point of the trip was even more difficult.

My grandma is sick.I already told you about this, & I should note that she's doing much better than she was at the time I wrote that post. She was hospitalized the day I wrote it, & she's since been moved to a rehab facility, where she'll likely be for awhile. It was a relief to see her in person & to get the reassurance that she's doing well, but it was still an emotional roller coaster to see her that way. On top of it all...

I've been sick, too.
Not the same kind of sick, of course, but I've been mildly unwell ever since returning from Israel. I was just starting to feel better when I headed to Ohio last week - but I somehow came home with a cold. I am interested in being asleep all the time, which is not feasible because...

I switched jobs.
This is sort of a convoluted situation, but basically, I've been temporarily reassigned within the same organization. The nonprofit I've been with for four & a half years is in the midst of a transitional period, & my skills were needed elsewhere within the organizational structure. My reassigned position is one I like very much & am really happy about - but, of course, switching gears is always stressful. And then, on my second day of the new gig...

My boyfriend deployed.
Nathan left this morning, headed to sea for the next two months. He's been home since just before Christmas, which was a nice change, as we usually only get about 60 days together before he gets underway again. All that time together meant, though, that his leaving today has been even more of a bummer. While he's gone...

I have a lot of travel coming up.
Starting next Friday, my schedule looks like this: Phoenix > D.C. > Boston > NYC. All in all, I'll be gone about 10 days, some for work & some for play, & while I'm looking forward to all of it, I'm feeling sort of panicky about being away for that long. Would you call me a crazy cat lady if I told you that I hate leaving my furball? And, you know, travel is kinda stressful, especially the anticipation part of it. Also...

I've taken on some side jobs.
I'm thrilled to be taking on some really exciting new writing & social media projects, as well as continuing my work with Twenties Hacker & Jewesses With Attitude - but with everything going on, I haven't had a lot of spare time to dedicate to doing, well, anything. I feel like a slacker, & my deadlines are weighing heavily upon me. To top it all off...

My car broke down.
More on that later & why I will be an AAA member as long as I live. For now, suffice it to say that my car broke down physically while I broke down emotionally.

So there you have it. Oddly, I don't think I'd realized just how high my stress level currently is until writing all of it down. In fact, I don't feel like I had time to write it at all, & now I'm feeling guilty about wasting my precious time - but I guess my sanity is worth "wasting" some time on.

Um, no wonder I've been sick. I have been freaking out non-stop. Anyone wanna loan me a masseuse?

Monday, March 5, 2012

When people call Ohio the Bible Belt, I always roll my eyes. "This isn't Alabama!" I want to tell them (& sometimes do). As Twitter may have informed you, though, I spent last weekend in Ohio visiting my grandma in the rehab center she's just moved into, & I had more than a few run-ins with crazy Bible-thumping in my beloved home state.

For starters, the big one: Rick Santorum visited Lima, where my grandmother lives, on Saturday. Speaking to 700 Republicans, he promised not to avoid God-talk during his campaign & vowed that "on the first day of his presidency, he would repeal every regulation enacted by Obama's administration," indicating that he may actually have no idea how government works. The front page of today's Lima News boasted the headline, "PRAYING FOR A WIN," featuring a little boy with hands clasped, presumably asking God to send Santorum to the Oval Office. I even saw a few Santorum for President (shudder!) yard signs. For the first time in my life, I found myself missing George W. Bush, but don't repeat that to anyone. Damn you, Ohio.

While at Walmart on Sunday evening shopping for track suits for my grandmother (true story), I passed a display of workout DVDs, including this gem:
WHY DOES THIS EXIST? How do religion & exercise relate in any way? I used to read a blog written by a young woman who was training to become a Christian yoga instructor. Not like she was Christian & a yoga instructor; like, she was becoming an instructor of Christian yoga, which is a fairly baffling concept. Apparently this is a real thing? Or so says that blogger, now confirmed Walmart.

And finally, on our drive back to New Hampshire (which will be happening for the next 10 hours or so, by the way), I spotted a billboard advertising BibleWalk, "Ohio's only life-size wax museum." Walking tours take visitors through dioramas of Bible stories, including wax worlds such as Miracles of the Old Testament, Life of Christ, Museum of Christian Martyrs and Heart of the Reformation. Dude, I don't care what your beliefs are: You can't tell me this doesn't sound at least mildly terrifying.
Whew. I love me some Buckeye State, but I'm not too disappointed to be headed back to religiously apathetic New Hampshire, where I can be a Reform Jew in peace, & others can practice whatever they practice sans billboards & headlines. Live free or die, kids.

Friday, March 2, 2012

When I heard that my blogger BFF Alana of The Good Girl Gone Blog & her fellow Boston style blogger Amy of Stylish Year were putting together a blogging conference in nearby Boston, I knew I wanted in.

Ever the overachiever, I bought my ticket to Blog Better Boston the very day they went on sale, & I tweeted the word to, um, everyone, convincing somefriends to join in the fun alongside me. Imagine, then, my flattery & astonishment when Alana & Amy asked me to serve on a panel for beginning bloggers attending the conference! I happily accepted, & I've spent approximately 50% of my time since then obsessing over the event, which is coming up on March 24th.

The resumes of other speakers & panelists for the event absolutely blow me away - the Senior Editor of RealSimple.com, a mommy blogger with 7k+ Twitter followers, big-name brand enthusiasts, forward-thinking entrepreneurs, & presidents & founders of amazing companies. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit intimidated. OK, a lot intimidated - but I know I bring something unique to the table. I'm not a professional social media person - just the voice of an everyday girl who identifies as a writer above all else, occupying one little corner of the Internet. I may not have corporate sponsorships or hundreds of comments per post, but I've built a nice readership for this here blog (thank you!), & in the four & a half (!!!) years I've been doing it, I like to think I've figured out the ropes. I can't begin to tell you how excited I am to help others do the same.

Tickets are only on sale through March 5th, which is next Monday, so if you want to join us, you have to hurry. With apologies for my delay in relaying this information to all of you, I really hope some of you in the Boston area (& anyone willing to travel!) will be able to attend Blog Better Boston & learn to, well, blog bettah, as we say up here in New England. It's gonna be wicked ah-some!*

(Oh, God, did I really just say that? Who am I? Good thing I'm going back to the Midwest this weekend for an identity check.)